


conversations (how to charm a wary heart)

by exactly13percent



Series: The AU Court [17]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Conversation Hearts, M/M, Snapshots, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 19:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17793272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exactly13percent/pseuds/exactly13percent
Summary: Neil is very good at Charms. Andrew is not. Somehow, they end up together by the end of it.





	conversations (how to charm a wary heart)

1.

CHEER ME ON

Neil shuffles his feet on the wood-paneled floor. A board creaks underfoot; he ignores it, eyes trained on Andrew. Waiting.

“Defensive,” Wymack says. His arms are crossed over his chest and the tattoos on them curl and shift like smoke. He’s definitely an unconventional professor. “Versus Nicky.”

 _This won’t end well._ Neil scuffs his shoe against the ground again. His black shoes are worn and ragged at the toes. Once, Professor Winfield had looked down at them—maybe she’d meant to remonstrate him for not dressing properly—but she’d taken a look at the curse-marks covering Neil’s skin and shut her mouth.

Most people do that. He’s not supposed to be alive, after all.

Nicky winces as he steps up to the center of the room. There is a dais, barely raised but clearly defined from the borders of the rest of the classroom.

This is supposed to be their first exam; their way of showing Wymack that they know the few charms they’ve learned this semester. Neil already instinctively knows half of the charms listed for the course. He never knew that he knew them, of course. He thought it was natural to strike out with the wand his mother shoved in his hand, and he thought it was natural for a spell to form and shield him.

He thought it was natural for spells to drain him almost to the point of unconsciousness. _No,_ Wymack had said, when Neil first came to the school. _And wandless magic can kill children._

Neil almost told Wymack he was never a child, but he figured that wouldn’t go over well.

Andrew shifts on his feet. His pale blond hair falls softly over one eye. When Neil first met him, he wondered if Andrew’s hair was magic. It shone too brightly, he thought, and it seemed to have a peculiar lack of movement to it. Maybe Andrew had charmed it just to stay in place.

Neil wouldn’t be surprised. Andrew is just about as flashy as Kevin, except his methods are less for others and more for himself. Not that it matters to the people watching, of course.

And they watch.

Andrew prepares while Nicky hesitantly steps up. Nicky clearly doesn’t want to attack his cousin, for fear or love. Neil drops his chin into his hands. His feet are already tapping with nervous energy against the floor.

“Quit it,” Aaron says shortly. He claps a hand onto Neil’s knee. He is staring at his twin, Andrew, and his cousin, Nicky. He doesn’t seem worried.

_Maybe he’s hoping they’ll kill each other._

“You’d think I’m holding a funeral,” Wymack complains, his voice raised. “What happened to the cheering?”

 _Andrew happened,_ Neil thinks. He fights a laugh and leans back on his hands. Aaron catches his eye and says, “Don’t.”

Neil widens his eyes innocently. Aaron’s mouth flattens. “ _Don’t_ —”

“You can do it!” Neil yells at the top of his lungs. “Kick his ass, Andrew! It doesn’t matter that you’re four feet tall! Magic is magic!”

Andrew’s fingers twitch on his wand. Neil wonders just how badly he wants to turn around.

Even Nicky looks pale. His panicked glance at Neil is cut short when Wymack says, “Start!”

Neil wonders how long it will take. He watches Nicky hesitate, edging around Andrew while he chews on his bottom lip. Andrew _can’t_ attack, and Neil thinks that might be Wymack’s most devious trick so far. Neil has seen Andrew on the offensive. It’s—

—something.

Especially when he uses the dagger spell.

“Christ,” Aaron mutters. Neil stares at him and Aaron flings a hand out to cover his mouth. “If you shut your whore mouth, I _will_ buy you some pumpkin bread.”

Neil sticks his tongue out. Aaron makes a disgusted noise and reflexively withdraws his hand long enough for Neil to shout, “We believe in you, Minyard! Standing Minyard! Minyard with the all-black ensemble! Mi—”

Aaron slaps his hand over Neil’s mouth again. “I am _not_ buying you pumpkin bread,” he hisses. “Even if you stop.”

Neil raises his eyebrows. _Are you sure?_

A vaguely pained expression flickers on Aaron’s face. “I will buy you _one_ slice. _If_ you stop.”

Neil raises his crossed fingers.

Luckily, Nicky has plucked up the courage to do something. Maybe having his grades on the line prompts him, or perhaps he is misguidedly attempting to end the fight before Neil does anything else stupid.

Nicky fires a spell. It sends red-gold sparks into the air; it’s messy and uncertain. Andrew moves, his arm darting from his side, and in a flash the sparks flutter to the ground. Neil catches a faint, pale shimmer in the air—some protective charm that Andrew must have muttered when he moved.

Just like that, it is over.

When Andrew turns on his heel, Neil knows Andrew is searching for him. He is curious just what will happen, but then the bells ring in the distance and everyone suddenly jumps up to leave. Wymack is in the middle of yelling something about continuing next class, but Neil is more intent on collecting his reward than listening.

“Pumpkin bread,” Neil reminds Aaron. He latches onto Aaron’s arm and starts walking. He thinks Andrew might be close behind them, but that doesn’t bother him. Missing the fresh batch of pumpkin bread that will be out soon does.

Aaron stumbles a little. “Damn it, Josten. My—”

“Got your bag.” Neil pulls him along further. “You really do need to watch your things better.”

“Yeah, I’m trying,” Aaron mutters.

Neil gets the feeling he’s not talking about his bookbag.

 

2.

CHARM ME

Andrew hates flying, which is why Neil is surprised to see him on the quidditch pitch with a broom in hand.

Until it clicks.

Tryouts. Aaron wanted to try out, but Neil knows for a fact that he is sick in bed. Except Neil is the only one that knows, and if Aaron just shifts the part in his hair and makes an effort, he could probably trick the quidditch captain. Trick her enough to qualify for Aaron.

“What is it about Minyards being idiots?” Neil mutters.

Seth pauses, loosened tie hooked beneath his finger. He frowns. “What?”

Neil doesn’t answer. He jogs toward the pitch and hopes that Andrew doesn’t do something incredibly stupid, like—

— _immediately take off._

Neil should save his breath, but he’s too frustrated and panicked to stop the stream of expletives that stream from his mouth. He nearly trips as he runs, and then he’s on the ground and wishing he had a broom. Wishing he’d thought a little further than simply sprinting toward Andrew.

Seth isn’t even winded when he comes to a skidding halt beside Neil. It’s his stupid long legs. “Okay, what the fuck,” he says, chest rising and falling. “What the hell, Josten?”

Neil shakes his head. “It’s—”

He stops talking when he notices someone flying at Andrew. Not _towards_. At.

“Fucking fuck—”

Neil doesn’t know what he’s going to do; only that he has to do something. Somehow, Seth knows what is happening. Or at least, he knows enough to suddenly dart away. Maybe he’s going to look for a broom; Neil doesn’t know.

“Come on,” Neil mutters, impatiently shifting his weight between his feet. He starts to jog when Andrew ventures further away. He’s supposed to be playing the position of Chaser, but someone is coming up behind him. A Beater.

This is the worst possible scenario. Neil wants to scream; he wants to yell and fight. He wants to knock the Beater off their broom and charm their eyeballs onto the back of their head.

Seth still isn’t back, and Neil watches the Beater come closer—

—too close, he realizes, and a sharp stab of despair hits him squarely in the chest. Andrew is bumped; thrown to the side, off-balance. There is a struggle Neil can barely see, and then only a blur of motion and vague, yelled words. Some of the other players are coming to help, but it’s too late.

Andrew slips. Neil watches him fall—

—and he moves without thinking. He doesn’t reach for his wand; it’s one more second wasted. Neil reaches out, his curse-marked hand raised to the sky, and he shouts, _“STOP!”_

He can feel it immediately. It’s been some time since he did wandless magic; he was never banned from it, but he was told when he arrived, _it could hurt you. Not many people can do it._

_Better to wait._

So much for waiting.

The spell saps his energy steadily. It spirals around his veins and clamps tight, teeth sinking through tissue and spilling blood. Neil is acutely aware of how little time he has before he bleeds out.

Someone yells next to him. He thinks it might be Seth. _He won’t let you touch him,_ he wants to say. _You can’t bring him down on a broom._

Only, Andrew is apparently only two feet from the ground now, and Neil’s spell has somehow managed to work well enough to get him down. To keep him alive.

Seth’s voice reaches him, somehow. It’s oddly quiet. “Neil. Let go.”

He does. A tendril of magic lingers—wants to stay, somehow, as if Neil needs that thread of connection to ensure Andrew is still alive. Is fine.

Neil sinks to his knees. His heart races unsteadily and he thinks he is panting. He blinks and finds a pair of black boots before him, practice equipment strewn in a path on the field.

“You are stupid,” Andrew says. He says that, but his hand is on Neil’s chin to tilt it. He checks for scratches and marks as if Neil was the one in the sky, at risk of falling through trees and bleachers and onto the ground. “You should not have done that.”

“It worked,” Neil says. It _did_ , and he is not sorry about that.

He wonders if Andrew knows what he means.

Neil never finds out. Seth scoops him up from the ground and then Neil is fighting a wave of exhaustion, his eyes drooping while he leans against Seth’s chest. “He fine?” Neil mumbles, and he barely stays awake long enough to hear the answer.

“Yeah,” Seth says quietly. “I think he’s fine.”

 

3.

TEACH ME

Andrew is surprisingly bad at charms.

Well. Maybe not _surprisingly._

Neil sits cross-legged behind a tree at the edge of the campus lawn. Close by the forest begins, and the fifth- and sixth-year students usually populate it during lunch hours. The last thing Neil wants is to run into Dan and Matt making out. Again.

Aaron has a cold. He gets them in the spring, right when the weather changes. Luckily, he’s been on the quidditch team for a year. Missing out for a few days won’t be a problem.

 _I’ll bring you pumpkin bread,_ Neil promised. Aaron had coughed and rolled his eyes. _You’re such a fucking joke, Josten._

The tree is where Neil usually spends lunch with Aaron. These days, he sometimes sits with Andrew.

Only because Andrew wants to learn charms.

Which is why Neil is unsurprised when Andrew turns up, bookbag on his shoulder and wand smartly stowed at his waist. “Teach me,” he says shortly.

“What?” Neil pauses with an apple halfway to his mouth. Aaron makes him eat something healthy every time he wants pumpkin bread.

Aaron also isn’t around, but a deal is a deal.

“Teach me,” Andrew repeats slowly, as if Neil is stupid. He drops his bag with a thud.

Neil pauses long enough to stow his apple in his bookbag. “It’s not Thursday.”

“You’re not doing anything. Teach me.”

“What if I am?”

“Like what.”

Neil smiles a little. Crosses his arms and leans back against the tree. “I’m writing Valentine’s cards.”

A little spark enters Andrew’s eyes. It may be annoyance, or confusion. _Does he know what Valentine’s Day is?_ Andrew purses his lips; he looks like he’s about to cross his arms over his chest.

He looks like he’s imitating Kevin, which is funny. Neil refrains from pointing it out.

“Sit.” Neil waves vaguely at the spot next to him. He’s in a good mood, and he’s learned well enough that Andrew is nothing to fear. He’s actually not bad.

Not _that_ bad.

Andrew drops onto the ground. It’s funny how messily he does it, because Neil has seen him sneer when he steps too close to mud. Neil was tempted to teach Andrew a cleaning charm for his first lesson.

Instead, Neil chose a basic charm. A mending one. Not that he expected Andrew to mend anything he broke—mostly because he could not imagine Andrew purposely or accidentally breaking anything.

Nicky, on the other hand.

“What are these?” Andrew lifts a box from beside Neil’s knee. The contents rattle dully. He frowns at the packaging, with its multicolored hearts and bubbly text.

Neil shrugs. “My uncle sent them.”

It’s not an answer, but Neil doesn’t feel like going into detail. He suspects Andrew would sneer at the conversation heart candies.

_Wait. Candies._

Neil tears open a box at his side and extends it immediately. “Candy. It’s candy. Do you want some?”

He doesn’t really need to ask. Andrew has a sweet tooth that constantly annoys Kevin, who is about as insistent on keeping a balanced diet as Aaron is.

Once or twice, Neil went for pumpkin bread to find Andrew had bought the last one from the shop. He had vowed never to lose to Andrew again.

He’d also bought up the cherry cordials Andrew liked, and hidden behind a shelf to watch Andrew scowl when the clerk told him they were out.

Andrew squints at Neil, but he accepts with a cupped hand. Neil tilts out a cascade of little hearts. He doesn’t miss Andrew’s faint displeasure at the shape, but Andrew brings one to his mouth anyway. The heart is nearly to Andrew’s lips when he pauses, withdrawing the candy to read it.

“That smile,” he reads, clearly unamused.

Neil can’t help himself. He grins and ducks his head to cover his mouth with his hand. He thinks if he laughs, Andrew will kill him.

Andrew is quiet. Neil glances up to see if Andrew has eaten the candy. Andrew is still frozen, a vague tension stiffening his body. He shoves the hearts into his mouth at once and crunches them stubbornly, like he’s avoiding something.

“Has anyone ever given you something for Valentine’s?” Neil asks. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself.

Andrew pauses. Extends his hand again and stares determinedly into the distance. “No.”

“Well, if you receive something you like, you should give them something back,” Neil says as he tips more into Andrew’s palm. “If you want. If you like them back.”

He feels stupid. _Why do I feel so childish?_ He knows he is saying stupid, obvious, things. Except he can’t stop, and he can’t hear the sounds of the other students anymore. All he hears is his pulse in his ears and the shifting candies in Andrew’s hand.

“If I don’t know what to buy?” Andrew asks quietly.

Neil shrugs. _Why is my heart hurting?_ “You can give them love.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

Neil looks up sharply. _That’s a lie,_ he wants to say. It’s a lie, because Andrew gives Nicky plenty of love by sending dirty looks at people that whisper about him. It is a lie because Andrew makes sure Aaron has soup when he’s sick and notes for homework, too. It is a filthy lie that Andrew does not know how to love, because someone that doesn’t know how to love wouldn’t be friends with people that have been through hell on earth.

The argument dies when Neil realizes Andrew was waiting. He was waiting for Neil to look up, and when Neil does, Andrew has one heart left. His fingers hold it delicately as he drops it into Neil’s palm.

 _TEACH ME_ , it says. As if Neil knows what the hell he’s doing. But—

— “I’ll try,” Neil whispers.

It is a bright day in February, and it’s not even Valentine’s yet, but Andrew kisses Neil all the same. He kisses Neil carefully, warm lips and a steady hand on Neil’s neck.

Neil thinks, _this is more powerful than any magic,_ and he kisses Andrew back.

He thinks he’s going to like these new lessons.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I really had some nebulous ideas for this fic. I kind of feel like it could spiral into a crazy 45k fic, but for now, I wanted to do something short and sweet.  
> Plus, my hand is killing me.


End file.
